PS 3521 
N4 S8 
1914 
Copy 1 



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l,o\m- 





Book 



Copyright ]J?- 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW 



BY 
LOUISE W. KNEELAND 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH 4- COMPANY 

1914 






Copyright, 1914 
Sherman, French & Company 

AUG -7 1914 

©CI.A379052 



TO 

THE GREAT MOTHER 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Ode to Beauty 1 

To A Flower 5 

The Singer and the Song 6 

The Choice 7 

One 8 

Song 9 

The Cup 10 

Love's Fulfillment 11 

The Wind and the Sea 12 

The Interlude 13 

Love's Communion 14 

I Buried my Love 15 

The Unveiling 16 

The Storm 17 

To A Butterfly 18 

A Bird's Note 19 

As ITS Scent to the Heart of the Rose . . 20 

Love's Phantasy 21 

The Visitant 22 

The Gift 23 

Twilight 24 

The Great Magician 25 

Song of the Singing Leaves . . .... 26 



PAGE 

Nightfall 28 

Wind of the Hills 29 

Winds of March 30 

June 31 

Autumn 35 

Gray Skies 36 

The Driven 37 

Winter 38 

Twilight 40 

Kiss me, O Death 41 

Hail! 42 

To New York City 43 

Whited Sepulchers 45 

A. D. 1913 47 

Springtime 49 

The Warning 50 

I Cannot Rest by Night or Day ... 51 

The Soul's Reveille 52 

Resung through Ages 53 

The Oath 54 

The Red Dawn 56 

Daybreak 57 

Song 58 

Starlight 59 

A Summer Song 60 

I Know a Rippling Brook 61 

The Home Call 63 

Ad Astra 64 

The Conqueror 65 

As Clouds are to the Sun 67 



PAGE 

Love's Invitation .... .... 68 

The Old Song 69 

The Desired 71 

Companionship 72 

Why Grievest Thou? 74 

The Lost Paradise 75 

Leaves 76 

The Lonely One 77 

The Net 78 

The Smile 79 

Beside the Sea 80 

Finis 81 

Dreams 82 

Lovers' Vows 83 

A Rose Bloom 84? 

Mortality 85 

Brothers 86 

On Friendship 87 

Slayer and Slain 88 

The Singer 89 

The Test 90 

The Secret 91 

The Difference 92 

The Spiral 93 



But when to haunts of men 
Returned, what ills appear! 
Gaunt Poverty, grim 
And bare, steals through 
The streets with Hunger 
As a guide, and these 
With Crime, all foul 
And blackened, and with 
Death, the pale Deliverer, 
Are soon companioned. 
O Heavenly One, 
Where now thy glorious 
Freedom and delight ! 
Thy blissful calm! 
Yet half's not told, 
For in the wake of Crime 
Comes Justice, born of men. 
Abhorrently deformed. 
Who, with a leer. 
Grants Privilege the right 
To plunder undismayed, 
But mocks at Poverty 
With an outward show 
Of benefit and secret 
Wrong. How reconcile 
The peace of green retreats 
With scenes like these? 
Hast thou no power, 
Divine One, in the homes 
Of men, that these things he? 



Why are we left 
Lamely to battle 
With such hideous foes 
When Nature in the comfort 
Of thy smile securely 
Rests? What meaning 
In thy strange disdain 
Of human ways, 
O Beauty, say! 

Oft in my dreams 
Through childish voices 
Shrill with pain I hear 
Bright song and rippling 
Laughter flow, and spite 
Of grime and filth 
In reeking streets see templed 
Cities rise. In dreams ! 
In dreams ! See harsh 
Injustice step aside 
For Truth and Love, 
And all thy banners wave. 
But 'tis in dreams ! 
How make of such sheer 
Fabrics stately pillars 
Of some lasting shrine 
To thy dear name 1 
Is this the secret of thy 
Seeming negligence of men: 
That we should have 
3 



Occasion freely given 

By such an enterprise 

To prove our love for thee? 

O Beauty ! ever do 
Thy swiftly flying feet 
Me by strange paths 
And hidden ways 
To faery haunts allure. 



TO A FLOWER 

Joy of the earth ! Exquisite flower ! 

In the wildwood I found thee, 
Nestling alone, and thy strange power 

Weaves still its spell around me. 



THE SINGER AND THE SONG 

I HEARD a wild bird singing 
Across a darkening sky, 

The song with rapture ringing 
Proclaimed the nest near by. 

The storm, ah, swift descending. 
Destroyed the nest and bird : 

The song with joy unending 
Still in my heart is heard. 



THE CHOICE 

O CUP of pain, pass me not by, 

But give to me thy dreaded dream. 
Let whoso will sip nectar, 

Or quaff the ambrosial stream ; 
To me the bitter lees, 
To me the crown of biting thorn. 
The gaping wounds, the robe of scorn. 
For master of the gods am I 

Who dare such ways as these. 



ONE 

I LOOKED in God my Father's face 

And said: 

" / would be even as Thou ! " 

He smiled and veiled His face. 

So now, 

Alone 

I fight my upward way awhile 

Until once more before the Father's throne 

I stand, and look into His face, 

And see Him smile. 



8 



SONG 

Sunken and sodden with rain is the ground, 
Withered and fallen the leaves of the tree, 

But like a fire, like a flame that the wind has 
found 
Is the thought of thy love unto me, unto me. 

Gray are the clouds like a pall overhead, 
Fitful and sad is the moan of the sea. 

But as the song of a bird when the night is fled 
Comes the thought of thy love unto me, unto 
me. 



9 



THE CUP 

Let me drink of the cup of thy lips, O my 

Beloved ! 
Then to my soul come rest and release from 

pain. 
The very ecstasy of joy, O my Beloved! 
Let me drink of the cup of thy lips again ! again ! 

I have drunk of the cup of thy lips, O my 

Beloved ! 
When the cold hand of death on my heart hath 

lain. 
Thou hast brought life from the still grave, O 

my Beloved! 
Let me drink of the cup of thy lips again ! again ! 



10 



LOVE'S FULFILLMENT 

I HAVE longed for thee, Beloved, 
As the moon longs for the sea 
Where she draws him to her 
And gives herself in a passionate 
Flood of silver light. 
And is satisfied, is satisfied, 
Being one with him she loves. 

And I have yearned for thee. Beloved, 

As for the moon yearns the sea 

When he leaps to meet her caressing touch 

And gives himself in the endless flow 

Of his restless tides, 

And is satisfied, is satisfied. 

Being one with her he loves. 

Even so I have longed for thee, O Beloved, 
And have yearned for thee, my Beloved, 
And have given myself and received of thee 
And am satisfied, am satisfied. 
Being one with thee, with thee whom I love. 



Ill 



THE WIND AND THE SEA 

The wind and the sea they follow me, follow me, 
follow me ever, they rest nevermore ; 

The wind and the sea they hollow me, hollow me, 
hollow me, wailing, a grave far from 
shore. 

" Oh, whose is the voice in the wind's endless 
moan. 
And whose is the voice in the cry of the sea? " 
'Tis the voice of my dear one, who wanders 
alone, 
'Tis the voice of my dear one that calls 
unto me. 

Beloved and lost, I'll follow thee, follow thee, fol- 
low thee swiftly, we'll part nevermore ; 

The wind and the sea they hollow me, hollow me, 
hollow me, wailing, a grave far from 
shore. 



12 



THE INTERLUDE 

Dearest ! I think of thee ! 
Far through the shadowy night 

Thy spirit calls to mine. 
Through thee both love and joy 
Are given me, and these hours, 

These waiting hours divine. 



13 



LOVE'S COMMUNION 

When day beyond earth's distant rim conceal- 
ing 

Her glorious star, to night resigns the peaceful 
hour, 

Then through the silent shades of evening steal- 
ing* 

Thy soul exhales its fragrance like some mystic 
flower. 

Oh, gently, as to fond hearts recollections 
Of old time pleasures come and May-day joy. 
Now come to me divinely-hued reflections 
Of all the spirit's bliss when freed from life's 
alloy. 

All tender things, all beautiful and holy 
Do from thy inmost thought enfold and com- 
fort me; 
Thine is this hour, Belov'd, and oh, thine solely. 
Secure from earthly ill, the heart that longs for 
thee. 



14 



I BURIED MY LOVE 

I BURIED my love last night ! 

Oh, deep! deep! 

The cold winds crept through the tangled grass, 

The wild winds lifted the oozy mass 

And we laid him where never a foot may pass. 

Oh, I buried my love last night, last night, 

And his grave is so deep ! so deep ! 

The sun rose radiant in the glassy sky, 

The flowers they danced 

And the birds sang sweet. 

But over it all I heard a cry 

That will ring in my ears till the river runs dry. 

Oh, I buried my love last night, last night. 

And his grave is so deep! so deep! 

I buried my love last night, last night — 
Why lies he so cold in his sleep ? 



15 



THE UNVEILING 

The woods are still. 

The lifeless air nor stirs 

Nor bears a sound. 

From depths profound 

Rise the tall trees 

With all their patient, 

Steadfast growth of years 

Straight to the sun. 

Thence, from enchanted quiet 

To quiet down-dropping 

The silence falls 

Till even in that death-like hush 

There comes a pause. 

And then in swiftest greeting 

My heart leaps to my lips 

And my head is bowed. 

For in that stillness 

Is a Presence: 

It is Thou ! 



16 



THE STORM 

I HEAR you call, 

wind that drives the rain, 
Mad with pain 

At losing all ! 

1 hear you call. 
Oh, wildly call. 
As I, too, call, 

In vain ! In vain ! 

I hear you fall 

Fast through the dripping trees. 

On dead leaves, O rain ! 

On all 

The dead you fall. 

Oh, fast you fall. 

As my tears fall. 

In vain! In vain! 



17 



TO A BUTTERFLY 

Hey! little rover 

Over the clover, 

Whither away ! 

Whither away ! 

Gaily you flutter by 

Under the sunny sky, 

Off for the day — 

The long summer day. 

You gather life's delight. 

You carefree, tiny mite. 

White blossom of May, 

Wandering astray! 

I'll join the chase with you. 

Sip balm and honey dew. 

With you I'll play. 

Oh, gaily I'll play 

Lost to the world's old pain. 

Back to the fields again — 

Hey ! little rover 

Over the clover. 

Let us away. 

Oh, let us away ! 



lid 



A BIRD'S NOTE 

Hark! 

Through the soft, cool, flower-scented 

dark, 
A bird's note. 
Liquid, compelling, 
Afloat 

On the stillness of night. 
And telling 
In accents divine. 
Of the capture. 
Through Love's pain, 
Of Love's rapture. 
Once again 

Swells the throbbing appeal. 
Making real 
All the life of the soul. 
Its depth and its height. 
All its passion and pain. 
And its rapture. 
Hark! 
Afloat 

On the stillness of night, 
Through the soft, cool, flower-scented 

dark, 
A bird's note. 



19 



AS ITS SCENT TO THE HEART OF 
THE ROSE 

As its scent to the heart of the rose, 
The sway of the grain to the wind that blows, 
So art thou to me, my Beloved. 

As the song to the throat of the bird, 
To the ear the fond voice that is heard, 
So art thou to me, my Beloved. 

As to the star is its gleaming. 

To earth is its teeming 

Through sun and through shower 

With fruit and with flower. 

As to the word is its meaning. 

To youth is its dreaming. 

To life is life's ecstasy. 

So, even so, art thou unto me, 

Unto me, my Beloved, 

O Beloved, even so 

Art thou unto me ! 



SO 



LOVE'S PHANTASY 

Once more the bird-song greets the rose. 

On dancing ripples gleams the sun. 

Astir in dewy fields there hums the bee, 

While in the wood's cool shade 

I sit and wait. 

So soft the summer air, 

So blue the violets are, 

I dreamed it was but now 

You kissed me, lingeringly. 

And deep within your eyes 

I saw love's haunting smile. 

Oh ! was it long ago ? 



21 



THE VISITANT 

My soul cries aloud to thee, 

Divinest Mystery ! 

Oh, from what worlds unknown 

Visit est thou me? 

Caught in the whirl of circumstance. 

Held by the magic of that mystic dance 

Am I, who would be free; 

Yet in that bondage fast 

There comes to me from out the vast, 

Thy touch ethereal. 

But swift from the haunts of men 

Vanishest thou, and then 

My soul cries aloud to thee! 

O Love! hearest thou me? 



THE GIFT 

I SOUGHT, O Love, 

To lay upon thy shrine 

Some perfect gift 

In memory of all 

Thy glowing hours, 

Thy rapturous days. 

The beauty of the stars 

I thought 'twould be. 

The spring's fair flowers. 

Some bird song 

Sweet and wild. 

From end to end of earth 

I sought that perfect thing — 

But could not find. 

The beauty of the stars had fled. 

The songs all silenced were. 

Faded the flowers. 

Then Life, smiling divinely. 

Laid upon my heart 

Her hand, heavy with pain. 

And now, O Love, 

Take these, my tears. 



23 



TWILIGHT 

The daylight fades. 

Little quivering breaths of air 

Stir in the trees. 

All sounds are hushed. 

Now purple twilight steals 

Through all the world 

And holds us with its 

Soft and tender comforting 

As gently as the arms 

Of those we love. 

The busy day is done. 

The hour of peace is here. 

A little while it stays, then 

Slips away and leaves us 

With a memory of things 

Infinite and beautiful. 



THE GREAT MAGICIAN 

And one there is who by his "magic art 
Takes of the past and, as to him seems good, 
Builds with it the future, wondrous, beautiful, 
With all the glory of the days of old, 
But more, diviner revelations, unheard of splen- 
dors. 
Great vistas opening to new heights, far plains 
And stretches of a boundless sea, so that men 

say: 
" Come, let us leave the narrow, stifling ways 
Which we have known so long, and seek these 

distant lands. 
These towering heights and the freedom of this 

sea 
That hold for us the promise of our heart's de- 
sire." 
Nor can they rest who thus have seen the vision 

fair 
Raised by the Poet's art — the great Magi- 
cian he, 
By this proclaimed the Master and the Lord of 

all. 
That he can take reality, though cast aside, 
And out of it create a shining dream. 
Which seeing, men in ecstasy do strive 
From day to day to make reality again. 



25 



SONG OF THE SINGING LEAVES 

This is the song of the singing leaves 
As they swayed in the summer sun. 
This is the song that was heard by one, who, 
Wandering alone under drooping boughs, 
Grieved for the voice known of old. 
" Didst thou think to elude me, 
My dearest ! O Joy of my Heart ! 
I who am ever nigh unto thee ! 
The breath of the sighing wind I am to thee. 
The soft breath of summer 
That holds thee. 
Dost thou not feel 
How^ its sweet-scented kisses 
Tell of my love unto thee.? 
Didst think to elude me? 
The rays of the morning that greet thee. 
Are they not born of my soul? 
Whose is their message but mine ! 
The joy, the rapture of meeting. 
Softly they make known unto thee, 
O Dearer than Life ! 
Ah, wilt thou elude me then ! 
The rustling of leaves on their branches 
S6 



But whisper my love for thee. 

The joy of my soul they sing unto thee. 

Thy lover's care for thee 

Seest thou not in their shade? 

Wild flowers spring into being 

Beside thee, bird-songs 

Beguile thee. It is I ! 

It is I ! Hearest thou not 

Me, my Beloved? 

/ am the voice of the wildwood, 

The singing leaves and the birds. 

/ am the breath 

Of the summer's soft sighing. 

I love thee ! I love thee ! 

Dost hear me, Beloved ? 

Joy of my Heart ! 

Nevermore dying 

The voice of my soul 

With messages tender 

Will hold thee. 

Dost hear me? 

Thou art mine ! Now ! Now ! 

And through all eternity ! " 

This the song of the singing leaves 

To the ears of one, who. 

Wandering alone under drooping boughs. 

Grieved for the voice known of old. 



S7 



NIGHTFALL 

I HEAR thee, Love, 

All through the winding forest ways. 

Calling to me, 

And on through the gathering gloom 

I'll follow thee. 

Though rough the path 

And strange it be. 

The hour grows late. 

No more I'll roam. 

I hear thy voice, dear Love, 

And oh, I'm coming home ! 

I'm coming home ! 



28 



WIND OF THE HILLS 

Wind of the hills, I greet you with ecstasy, 
Rushing impetuously, flying along. 

Free life is yours, so, wandering carelessly. 
Nature's own vagabond, gay is your song. 

When, with a shout, you storm through the 
dark green wood. 
Deep are the harmonies wrung from the trees. 
While with a charm that cannot be long with- 
stood, 
High overhead sound your wild melodies. 

Over the hills in silence cloud shadows fly, 

Their haste is yours though unseen and afar ; 

You drive the clouds that cast, as they hurry by, 
Shadows as fleeting as we mortals are. 

Music and motion ever accomp'ny you. 

Gone is the life of the hills when you sleep. 
Beauty have they and strength, but theirs no 
claim to 
Song or wild freedom that makes the heart 
leap. 



WINDS OF MARCH 

Wild winds of March, 
In all your stormy rollicking 
What meet you on the open road 
One half as bold and free? 

Child of the earth and sky, 
Though I my wildest rave and sing 
The soul of man with tongue of flame 
Keeps company with me. 

Wild winds of March, 
In all your farthest wandering 
Find you there's aught more venturesome 
Beyond the ice-locked sea? 

Child of the earth and sky. 
Though I to utmost bounds took wing 
The soul of man would still lead on — 
It seeks Infinity. 



30 



JUNE 

There is a Singer whose words 
Are full of tears : 

Him would I take into the woodland 
Up among the hills of June. 
There would liis soul be filled 
With all the joy of the free skies 
And the green earth, 
Drenched with morning dew, 
Or lying in the noontime sun asleep. 
Or kissed by the slanting shadows 
Of the dying day. 
There would he breathe 
The healing fragrance of the pines, 
Warm in the summer sun, 
Their tufted needles 
A delicate fringe 
Against the cloudless sky. 
There would the laurel unburden 
All its loveliness 
To his enchanted eyes. 
Terracing the country roads 
With overflowing beauty. 
And hark ! from the willows 
31 



By the winding brook 

The yellowthroat's roundelay, 

And from the swaying tip 

Of some young birch 

The song sparrow flings 

His gay, untroubled notes : 

" Come ! Come ! Come with me, 

Over the hills and away ! " 

In the silent woods 
The wild, shy things 
That peer and scurry 
At a stranger's step. 
Grow bold and unafraid 
Of the still, unheeding form. 
Motionless against the trunk 
Of some great tree 
Through whose widespread foliage 
The flickering sunbeams dance 
With the shadows on the ground. 
Lo ! Here is the peace 
That speaks of life, 
The deep, still life 
Of Nature's silent things 
That wells up in its fullness 
To bless and satisfy. 
So still the woods are now 
The hemlock's tiny spears 
Fall with a tinkling sound 
Upon the dry, brown leaves 
32 



of last year's scattered growth. 

The cool, green shade 

Yields up a spicy fragrance 

Of fern and sassafras ; 

Mosses and lichens 

In the damp betray 

Their presence with a breath. 

From distant sunny fields 

Come faint sounds 

Of the mower's whetted scythe, 

The barking of the farmhouse dog, 

The cowbell's fitful clank, 

All blended into one 

Deep sense of peace 

Under the magic spell 

Of the summer woods. 

Then up, up and away 
Over the hills, to where 
Daisies and buttercups 
Nod and beckon. 
Flaunting their gold 
Over the red of the strawberries 
Hid in the grass. 
Wild is the riot 
Of blossoming hedges, 
Gay are the flowering 
Roadsides and byways 
Where the birds sing in June 
To their mates on the nest. 
33 



Free is the life of the woodland then, 

And there, O Singer whose words 

Are saddened with tears, 

There in the hills 

Will you find all the joy, 

All the peace and joy 

Of the world. 



AUTUMN 

Now sleeps the great Mother 

Under gray November skies. 
Ragged and colorless 

Her proud dress of summer lies. 
Gone are the life and joy 

That with the effulgent sun 
Filled the radiant days 

Full to the brim. One by one 
They passed with pageantry 

Fairer far than pomp of kings. 
Faded their glory now. 

Rough and wild the wind that sings 
About the cold gray walls 

Where, leafless, the ivy makes 
A netted veil ; bleak and 

Desolate the hill where breaks 
The entangled, fretted 

Lacing of the naked trees 
Against the gloomy cloud. 

That, slow brooding, grows and frees 
At length, with sullen will. 

Full the bitter, driving storm 
On the unconscious one. 

But close in her arms and warm 
Holding dear dreams of spring — 

Joy-born of the summer's breath — 
So sleeping with a smile. 

She conquereth thee, O Death ! 
35 



GRAY SKIES 

Shock of the stubble and cold of gray skies ! 

O glamour of days that have no returning 
The beauty of summer fast fading now lies 

And smiles not again for all the heart's 
yearning. 

Garnered the fruit of the sun and the dew, 

The stubble is left for the ploughshare's 
rude spurning. 
O passionate heart, alas ! that for you 

Comes the ploughshare of time but no fruit of 
your burning. 



THE DRIVEN 

Whirling the dead leaves fly 

Onward! onward! 

Cold the. wind they're driven by, 

Harsh as is the destiny 

That follows, ever follows me. 

But at last they are at rest, 

Folded close to Earth's bare breast. 

Comforted, oh, comforted. 

So at length content will I 

In the Earth's embrace, too, lie. 



37 



WINTER 

Cold! Still, cold and white 

She lies, shrouded in the mystic 

And heart-breaking beauty 

Of the winter snow ! 

The great one ! The strange 

Incomprehensible companion 

Of our dreamlike days ! 

Heavy on the branches 

Of her entranced trees. 

Drooping in weird festoons 

On wall and roof. 

Deep, deep on her 

Unresisting breast, rests now 

The miraculous burden 

Of the glistening snow. 

Caught in midair, 

Touched by the magic 

Of an unseen power, 

The tiny stars took shape, 

Broke like a flame 

Into forms of delicate 

And exquisite conceit 

And fell in untold myriads 



To make a wonder 

Of the sleeping world. 

Thus broke blade and blossom 

In the radiant summertime, 

But not more fair. 

What though the woods were vocal 

With the singing thrush 

And all the rainbow tints 

Bestrewed the fields, 

This cold white purity 

Austere can lift the soul 

To heights unknown till now, 

Can lift and hold the soul 

Until it breathes another, 

Finer air, is lost to life 

And self and longs to sink 

Dreamless, touched by 

A nameless cold. 

And pass, imperishable and free. 

Into the tragic beauty 

Of this white, still, deep repose. 



39 



TWILIGHT 

What seekest thou then, restless wraith 

Of the dream-haunted past 

That leadest my footsteps 

Through the wan light of evenhig? 

As death is thy hand 

With its chill, clinging dews 

And fitfully gleam 

Thy ghastly, fixed eyes. 

Why beckonest thou me 

Down the dim, winding path 

By the ghostly, stark fields 

And the dumb, haggard wood? 

What seekest thou there 

For thy love and thy madness? 

" The black pool in the hollow ! 

The still depths of its gloom." 



40 



KISS ME, O DEATH 

Kiss me, O Death, upon the lips ! 

Taste of the joy that has been mine ! 
Golden the light thou dost eclipse, 

Fiery-sweet the half-spilled wine. 

Now while no cloud is in the sky. 

While still I drink nor touch the lees. 

Kiss me, O Death, nor let one sigh 
Escape the lips so dear to these. 



41 



HAIL ! 

Hail! Godhood, hail! 
Thou tortured one in some bare room 

Alone, denied, betrayed. 
Though full the measure of thy doom, 
Erect and unafraid. 

Hail ! Godhood, hail ! 

Hail! Godhood, hail! 
Thou hounded slave in mill or mine. 

Though chained to labor's hell. 
Aroused and claiming all that's thine, 
Whose deeds the stars shall tell. 
Hail! Godhood, hail! 

Hail ! Godhood, hail ! 
Thou mocked and wrung by sickening pain, 

Half spent and nigh to death. 
Who still with courage once again 
Dost draw thy quivering breath. 
Hail ! Godhood, hail ! 

Hail ! Godhood, hail ! 
To all who walk in suffering's way. 

Yet by a hard-won grace 
Look up to meet the light of day 
With firm, unflinching face. 
Hail! Godhood, hail! 



42 



TO NEW YORK CITY 

I HAVE built you 

And I can raze you 

And build again, 

O towering cliffs 

Of a thousand eyes 

Looking down 

On pitiful tenements ! 

Unceasingly swing your 

Iron cages twixt 

Heaven and Earth, 

Bearing the slaves 

Of the pointed stick 

And the blue-lined page 

To their task. 

While crawls and spins 

The cabined life 

Of the streets 

Driven by greed 

A prey to the whirling wheel. 

I have built you 
And I can raze you 
And build again. 

43 



Slowly the smoke rises 

From the fire 

Of a million hearts. 

Up from the hideous streets 

It ascends, the smoke 

Of that hidden fire, 

Up past the cliffs 

Of a thousand eyes. 

I have built you 
And I can raze you 
And build again. 

Beware that fire, 
O towering cliffs 
Of a thousand eyes 
Looking down 
On pitiful tenements' 



4i% 



WHITED SEPULCHERS 

See now, here be whited sepulchers 
Raised to the living God. 
These very shrines of Death ! 
Dead faith, dead 
Formulas, dead hearts 
Are here. Here do they 
Make a mock of Thee, 
O gentle One of Nazareth ! 
Calling on Thee, aye. 
Singing and praising Thee 
The while they leave Thy work 
Undone. Here do they put 
Sweet-smelling flowers 
To praise themselves and Thee, 
While in the city slums 
The little children lie 
In filth and wretchedness. 
Behold their great devotion, Lord, 
How they do bow themselves 
And swell the anthems loud 
To drown the sound 
Of sorrow's wail and drive 
The thought of sin away. 
To think of sin! Ah! that 
Were vile enough. Go ! 
45 



Let it fester where it will 
So it be out of sight 
And hid. We do our 
Gothic arches build 
Far from such scenes as these, 
On broad highways, 
With light and room 
For pious meditation free. 
From sin thy blood will 
Wash us clean. A simple way. 
We come at intervals 
To cleanse ourselves and take 
New hold on life, 
Delighted with the thought 
Of sanctity so easily 
Achieved. As for those others 
There, the stricken ones, 
Whom once 'twas thought that 
Thou didst come to save, 
Why, they may go elsewhere, 
The world is wide 
And Thou art all around. 
We leave them to Thy 
Tender mercy. Lord, 
For Thou art very kind. 
Dost thou not smile on us 
And all our pleasant ways 
Within these shrines of Death, 
These monstrous whited sepulchers 
Which we have raised to Thee? 
46 



A.D. 1913 

" We work so long ! 
We work so long ! " 
Down through the years 
The children cry. 
Theirs is no song. 
A bitter cry, 
A weary sigh. 
" We work so long ! " 
Theirs is no song. 

The night is dark! 
The night is dark! 
Along the streets 
Lean misery 
Now skulks and creeps. 
And soon, O hark! 
A shuddering moan, 
A stifled shriek, 
Ohear! Ohark! 
One goes alone 
Into the dark. 



47 



O hearts that break ! 
O hearts that break ! 
'Tis death in Hfe 
That you forsake. 
A bitter cry, 
A weary sigh. 
Theirs is no song. 
The children cry : 
" We work so long ! " 
And the years go by. 



4S 



SPRINGTIME 

Hark to the joyous flood of song, 

O children of the poor ! 
By winged choirs borne along, 

O children of the poor ! 
Far-flung o'er hills and valleys wide 

O children of the poor ! 
In greeting to the Eastertide. 

O children of the poor ! 
Now dance the rills and rivers free, 

O children of the poor ! 
From mountain tops unto the sea, 

O children of the poor ! 
While earth in glorious raiment clad 

O children of the poor ! 
Casts off the winter's vesture sad. 

O children of the poor ! 
A million flowers scent the air, 

O children of the poor ! 
And joy aboundeth everywhere, 

O children of the poor ! 
But ye are held within the dark, 

O children of the poor ! 
Where quenched is the heavenly spark, 

O children of the poor ! 



49 



THE WARNING 

Over the wine and feasting 

And the waste of revelry, 
Up from the depths of Hell, 

Where the wolves of hunger be, 
Sinister voices mutter, 

Bitter and grim and dread : 
" Beware, beware, O Masters ! 

The children cry for bread." 

Over the pomp and riches 

And the luxury flaunting by. 
Up from the bloody shambles 

Where the victims of Mammon lie. 
Sinister voices mutter. 

Bitter and grim and dread: 
" Beware, beware, O Masters, 

The avenging of the dead ! " 

Over the song and laughter. 

And the reckless joy of life. 
Up from the haunts of pain, 

Of poverty, shame and strife. 
Sinister voices mutter. 

Bitter and grim and dread : 
" Beware, beware, O Masters, 

The slaves by Misery led ! " 

50 



I CANNOT REST BY NIGHT OR DAY 

I CANNOT rest by night or day, 
There haunt me so the weary cries 

Of those who faint upon the way 
That up the Mount of Sorrow lies. 

The wailing cry of those who see 

With dull young eyes the setting sun 

Look down upon their slavery — 
The toiling children — many a one. 

The mournful cry of those who bring 
Sad children to this weary earth, 

Or sell themselves — oh, piteous thing ! 
To keep a life that's doomed at birth. 

The bitter cry of men who fight 
A losing fight for those they love; 

Who cannot reach the gleaming height 
That towers their flaming hells above. 

The haunting cry throughout the world 
From iron bands and prison bars — 

Where souls unto the depths are hurled — 
That rises to the sun and stars. 

Oh! Can you rest by night or day? 

Have you not heard the weary cries 
Of those who faint upon the way 

That up the Mount of Sorrow lies? 
51 



THE SOUL'S REVEILLE 

Would you sit in the gutter and look at the 
stars? 

Arouse ! Arouse ! 
The cause that knoweth nor failure nor bars 
Espouse ! Espouse ! 
We're here but a day 
Then hasten away: 
O leave as your mark 
A touch of the spark 
God-given, 
Earth-shriven, 
To lead others to heaven 
O'er a road that is dark ! 



62 



RESUNG THROUGH AGES 

Not in the joy of May-day revelry 

Do we gain power, 
But in the struggle for supremacy 

When dark clouds lower. 
Not in a round of careless days and years 

Is life well spent, 
But in wise striving to assuage man's tears 

We find content. 

These things. Brother, if thou heed. 
Love and honor be thy meed : 
These things if thou heed not well, 
Swift the path that leads to hell. 



53 



THE OATH 

Hear us, ye Damned! 

By the starved child's 

Pitiful cry, the sunken 

Eyes, the pale and hollow 

Cheeks, robbed of 

The glowing rose; 

By the short and labored 

Breath, the racking pain. 

The body's slow decay ; 

By all the agony 

Brooding in the mother's 

Heart, the muttered 

Curses on the lips of men 

Tortured by their helplessness, 

Hear us, ye Damned ! 
By these, by these 
We swear, that we. 
Who have the power. 
Will USE it 
To bring about 

The REVOLUTION ! 

54 



Hear us, ye Damned ! 
By the strain of man's 
Upward striving, the sweat, 
The long nights and days 
Of his unfulfilled desire ; 
By the sword that slays. 
The fagot's burning breath. 
The dungeon's bitter walls 
Of loneliness, the frenzied 
Shriek, mocked even as it 
Rises in the shuddering air ; 
By the weary sighs of men 
Spent in the fight 
For Freedom's crown ; 
By the lost hopes, yea. 
By all the patient efforts 
That have failed. 
By the tears, the sorrow 
Hidden in the night. 

Hear us, ye Damned ! 

By these, by these 

We swear 

That we. 

Who have the power. 

Will use it 

To bring about 

The REVOLUTION ! 

Hear us, ye Damned! 
55 



THE RED DAWN 

Give me to drink of thy lips, Beloved, 

For lo ! I am going to war ! 
The strength of thy soul in my arms, Beloved, 

As I greet the battle afar. 

Give me the touch of thy hand. Beloved, 
That mine may be swift and sure 

To strike in the midst of the fray. Beloved, 
A blow that for aye will endure. 

Give me the sound of thy voice, Beloved, 

That mine may be free and clear 
To answer the taunts of them. Beloved, 

Who have left us nor mercy nor fear. 

Give, oh, give me thyself. Beloved, 

That so, at the end of the fight 
We two may take together, Beloved, 

The road of our hearts' delight. 



56 



DAYBREAK 

Morning laughs from the skies, 
And the earth, hke a child 

Just waked, in glad surprise 
Is from its sleep beguiled. 

Fresh-bathed, the cooling dew 
In myriad drops espied. 

It greets the day anew 

And lays night's robe aside. 



67 



SONG 

Sing! little heart, sing! 

Behold! the coming of the mom! 
Dread winter yields at last to spring 

And day usui*ps the hours of night forlorn. 

Sing ! little heart, sing ! 

The sun of love is in the sky. 
All nature now is pleasuring, 

For life's deep joy exchange your sigh. 



58 



STARLIGHT 

The stars like sparks from, some great anvil 

bum, 
Strewn far and wide with force of mighty blows. 
Who is the Forger, and what fash'neth He? 
The gates of some celestial city's ways 
To man unknown? Oh, when through those 

vast gates 
We do but catch one glimpse of that fair land 
In what deep wonder all our senses sleep, 
And then what rapture thrills th' awak'ning 

soul. 



59 



A SUMMER SONG 

O Nature ! Mother Nature ! 

I come, I come to thee ! 
The magic of thy beauty, 

It softly draweth me. 

The splendor of thy sunsets. 
The depths of starry skies, 

The fragrance of thy woodlands 
Where happy songs arise. 

The flowing of the river 
Along its banks of green, 

The broad and gracious meadows 
And stately hills between, — 

The hills themselves, O Mother! 

The lonely, mighty hills 
That feel the touch of morning 

Before a birdling trills, — 

The whispering winds of evening. 
The moonlight's silv'ry dye, 

They call to me and woo me 
Till at thy feet am I. 

O Nature ! Mother Nature ! 

I come, I come to thee ! 
The magic of thy beauty 

It softly draweth me. 
60 



I KNOW A RIPPLING BROOK 

I KNOW a rippling brook with music sweet as 

that of any singing bird. 
Brown is the pathway that it loves, 
And fair the woods and fields through which 

it roves. 

All through the wondrous glory of the summer 
days its silv'ry voice is heard, 
Full of the joyousness of life. 
With not one note of sorrow or of strife. 

When to the rushing coolness of its water's flow 
the barefoot children come, 
Rapturous greetings, clear and loud, 
Assure a welcome to the merry crowd. 

Around the honied flowers that feel its fresh- 
'ning touch the busy insects hum. 
While to the sloping shallows fly 
The birds, and near the placid cattle lie. 



61 



Oh, to the saddened soul who turns, with weary 
sigh, on Nature's breast to lean, 
Sweet is the message that it brings. 
For aye of joy and hope it cheerily sings. 

And though I wander far from hill and vale, 
with all their haunts of fragrant green, 
I hear its whispered notes so low. 
Still follow, ever follow where I go. 



62 



THE HOME CALL 

" Come to us ! Come to us ! " 
Cry the hills and the sky 
Radiant with beauty. 
" We are your friends. 
Hark to us ! Hark to us ! 
Live as the birds do, 
Care free 
And air free, 
Singing their songs. 
Why do you tarry 
When we do the calling? 
See how the time flies ! 
Ah, why wait till day dies ! 
Come home to the hills 
Ere black night is falling. 
Come home to the hills 
And free life of the sky." 



63 



AD ASTRA 

Beloved, see! 
In my veins 
Is a flame 
Of fire 

Which, at thy name, 
Burns with desire 
Ever higher, 
Higher, 
Higher. 

O Beloved, 
In that flame 
Is consumed 
All the past. 
Naught can last 
In that fire 
Burning ever higher 
With desire 
At thy name. 
Naught can last 
But our love. 
Rising ever higher, 
Higher, 
Higher, 

With desire. 
With desire. 

64 



THE CONQUEROR 

In those dread hours 
When Pain assails the soul 
With gibes and taunts 
In bitter mockery 
Of life, saying : 

" Thy bones shall be full of aching 
And I will fill thy heart with tears. 
Thy flesh shall be the seat 
Of impotent desires, 
And thou shalt cry in agony 
On the rack of my making. 
I will tear thy soul asunder 
And thou shalt descend with me 
To the very depths of hell." 
Then, then do I think of thee 
And from my heart there leaps 
The exultant cry : 

" All this, and more, is in thy power, 
O Pain ! thou terrible and mighty ! 
But yet thou canst not quite undo me, 
For, oh ! for, oh ! I have looked 
Into the face of Love ! " 
65 



In that drear time 

When Death steals through the dark 

With whisperings hideous, 

Saying: 

" I breathe on the cities of men 

And they vanish. 

The flowers of the field bloom 

But to bow to me. 

Thou shalt take Life into thine arms 

And taste of the lips of Death. 

I will make of thy desire a dream 

And of hope a memory. 

Thou shalt eat of the fruit 

And thy mouth shall be filled with ashes." 

Then, then do I think of thee, 

And from my heart there leaps 

The exultant cry: 

" All this, and more, is in thy power, 

O Death ! thou terrible and mighty ! 

But yet thou canst not quite undo me. 

For, oh ! for, oh ! I have looked 

Into the face of Love ! " 



66 



AS CLOUDS ARE TO THE SUN 

There is one to whom my soul is as the clouds 
are to the sun: 

Bright in love's noontime gleaming, 

Oh, fiercely bright! 

Or with the dawn's first, tender touch, softly ar- 
rayed. 

Red, red at even ! Passionately red with love's 
dear, fullest flowering — the feast of joy. 

Then black, oh, desolate and black, when love is 
gone and night comes on. 



67 



LOVE'S INVITATION 

There's a hidden happy spot 

Where the slanting shadows lie 

On the soft and fragrant grass 

Of the dearest little hill, 

When the summer sun is low 

And the day begins to go 

It's then that I am calling you, 

To say : 

O Love, stay with me ! 

O Love, play with me ! 

In that hidden happy spot, 

By the world and time forgot ! 

There's a hidden happy spot 

Where the sweetest flowers are 

And the singing of the birds 

Rises softly to the sky, 

When the summer sun is low 

And the day begins to go 

It's then that I am calling you. 

To say: 

O Love, stay with me ! 

O Love, play with me ! 

In that hidden happy spot. 

By the world and time forgot ! 



68 



THE OLD SONG 

O Love, I hear you in the evening come whis- 
tling down the lane, 
And ah, my longing heart beats fast to hear 

that tune again, 
'Tis one we knew long years ago when we were 

blithe and young, 
And quick the fond and tender words come 
crowding to my tongue : 
O Love, 
Dear Love, 
Take a walk with me. 
The blackbird's in the hazelbush, 
A sail is on the sea; 
My love's 
, True love 

And thus 'twill ever be. 

So come away 

At close of day 

And wander. Sweet, with me. 

The fragrance of the blushing rose, the light of 

summer skies. 
The balmy breeze that softly stirs and then as 

softly dies, 

69 



They come to me the while I sit beside an open 

door 
And dream I hear that whistled tune and hum 
these words once more : 

O Love, 

Dear Love, 

Take a walk with me. 

The blackbird's in the hazelbush, 

A sail is on the sea; 

My love's 

True love 

And thus 'twill ever be, 

So come away 

At close of day 

And wander, Sweet, with me. 



70 



THE DESIRED 

O LET me make a happy little place 

Where I can drink the comfort of your smile, 

Where I can see the radiance of your face 

And know that heaven has come to stay 
awliile. 

O let us make a garden hid away, 

With pansies set, and pinks, and gillyflowers, 
Where birds will sing the livelong sunmier day 

And shady walks allure the golden hours. 

And we will have a room where firelight falls 
At dusk — when crickets chirp and winds do 
moan — 

In flickering lights and shadows on the walls, 
While we do sit and rest, we two alone. 

Ah, let me make a happy little place 

For just us two, where you will softly smile 

And I can see the radiance of your face 

And know that heaven has come to stay 
awhile. 



71 



COMPANIONSHIP 

I CALLED to thee, Beloved; 

Then didst thou hear 

And send to me the message, 

Borne on the wandering summer wind 

That over dewy grasses sighed 

And brought the tender words 

Filled with the scent 

Of clover blooms, and set to music 

With the humming 

Of the bees, a balm 

To my hurt soul. 

I called to thee 

Straightway the hills became 
Pregnant with meaning. 
Their peace and strength 
Were thine and made 
A sheltering against life's stress 
For the so weary heart of me. 
Again I called — 
High in the blue 
The white clouds sailed serene. 
Lifting my sad thoughts 
72 



Above this world to thee, 

For so thou lookest down 

On earthly things from 

The freedom of thy skies. 

Day by day my spirit 

Calls, and ever does 

Thy message come anew. 

Now in some flower's fragile cup 

With delicate grace revealed, 

Now in the sparkling waters 

Murmured song that holds me 

In such endearment close 

I do forget there is aught else 

In all the world 

But just thy soul and mine. 

And ever in the swaying 

Branches of the friendly trees 

There breathes a secret sympathy 

That is of thee. 

Oh, through all nature's 

Myriad forms there speaks 

Thy soul ! I am not left alone. 

For when I call, thou hearest. 

And thus thou answerest me. 



73 



WHY GRIEVEST THOU? 

Why grievest thou? / grieve not, 
Though stripped of the summertide's glory 
And empty of all its delight. 

Why grievest thou? / grieve not, 
Yet naked my trees to the breath of the North 
And defenceless they stand in the grip of the 
cold. 

Why grievest thou? / grieve not, 

Though descends on my fields from pitiless skies 

the hoar frost, 
Though white are the ridges and crackles the ice 

in the hollows. 

Why grievest thou? / grieve not. 
Yet enters my soul the iron of winter 
And congealed is life's impulse within me. 

Why grievest thou ? / grieve not ! 
Endurance is master of fate 
And patience will tire the strongest. 
/ grieve not ! Why grievest thou ? 



•3f4 



THE LOST PARADISE 

Love, dear Love, come back to me, 
The days go by so wearily, 

The hours are long without thy smile. 
Come back, come back to me a while ! 

Through lonely nights I think of thee. 
Thy thoughts, afar, are they of me? 

1 miss so much thy tender smile, 
Come back, dear Love, a little while ! 



75 



LEAVES 

Sunlight and shadow, 
Sunlight and shadow 

On leaves, 
Quivering — tremulous ; 
So the experiences of life fall 

On me, 
Vibrating — sensitive. 

When summer is over, 
Wooed by the North Wind, 
Seek they their resting place 
In the Earth-mother ; 
Even so I, 

Wooed by the Death-cold, 
Slip to my bourne of rest 
In the Supernal. 



76 



THE LONELY ONE 

Sometimes when I sit alone 
And the hours are long 
A little pleading cry 
Breaks from my heart 
And calls to you. 
I hold it close, and then — 
And then I set it free 
And say : " Go ! find 
Your way into his heart 
And tell him — tell him 
You have come from me 
And that I think of him ! " 



77 



THE NET 

Dost thou hear? 

Drip ! Drip ! Drip ! 

Red drops of my heart. 

See how it bleeds ! 

Pain of thy going is there, 

Pain of thy coming. 

Oh, despair 

Of the tangled skeins 

That enmesh us — 

The snare. 

Drip ! Drip ! Drip ! 

Red drops of my heart. 

Dost thou hear? 

O see how it bleeds ! 



78 



THE SMILE 

I SAW one, who did not think I saw, 
Smile an evil smile, 
Crafty and sly, 
A sneer subtly blended 
With the lust of cruelty 
And tinctured with deceit. 
Thereupon welled to mine eyes 
The tears of pity. 
Which seeing, thus answered me 
That evil-smiling one: 
*' Thine own soul I cannot touch, 
For thou hast reached, 
By ways unknown to me, 
Heights invincible and free. 
But I will take of those 
Dear to thine heart 
And torture them before thine eyes, 
Helpless and dismayed. 
So shalt thou learn to hate. 
And hating fall, and falling 
Bruise them the more." 
Then to the tears of pity in mine eyes 
Was added wonder, and I cried : 
" Hard and stem the way 
By which I gained the heights. 
But, oh, my Brother, 
By what more terrible path 
Didst thou descend to Hell ! " 
79 



BESIDE THE SEA 

There is a hollow where my dead hopes He, 
And there sometimes I sit with idly folded 
hands 
And watch the shadows, gliding gently by 

Over long dead passions and gray and barren 
sands. 

The slow tears gather, falling one by one — 
The wells are deep that keep the unforgotten 
past. 
The dead are calling. Time and I are done. 
The ever-seeking waves will hold me close and 
fast. 



SO 



FINIS 

O BLUE of the summer's arching sky 
And woodland shades that softly lie 
Where murmuring brooks go wandering by, 
The days are long ! are long ! 
And wails a voice the reeds among: 
" Fled are the beauty and the song ! " 
My eyes with weary tears are wet. 
Let me forget! 

O white winged passion of the cold, 
Thou fierce wild lover of the mold 
Whom not e'en death itself can hold. 
The days are long ! are long ! 
There wails a voice bare reeds among: 
" Fled are the beauty and the song ! " 
My eyes with weary tears are wet. 
Let me forget! 



81 



DREAMS 

I HEARD a voice a-mocking say : " These be but 

idle dreams. 
Dost follow airy phantasy, an errant fool, me- 

seems." 
And then afar a voice that cried : " Do we but 

dreams pursue, 
This still is left for comfort. Dear, we to our 

dreams are true." 



8^ 



LOVERS' VOWS 

O SAY not love with lovers' vows is bound ! 

Dear love is free, from sea to sea ; 
Unfettered will true love be found 

Eternally — for thee, and me. 
The vows that bind, are of the earth alone, 

Love shuns the snare, is free as air. 
The body's held, the soul of love is flown. 

When lovers swear, love is not there. 



A ROSE BLOOM 

As Beauty walked the golden steps of Day 
She glanced at Cupid's glowing face and 
smiled. 
At that, from out old Chaos' mighty sway, 
Through sheer delight, there was this rose 
beguiled. 



8# 



MORTALITY 

Great Love, see how these puny human things 
Defame thy holy name! They harbor lust, 

And say they shelter thee. Though only wings 
May reach thy dwelling-place, they cleave to 
dust. 



85 



BROTHERS 

Should you think that in some there's no vir- 
tue, 

And your feeling of comradeship halts, 
Believe me, the reflection won't hurt you 

That at least we're made one by our faults. 



m 



ON FRIENDSHIP 

" My friend has failed me ! " 

(Hear the cry !) 

" Of friendship here's an end." 

And thou, fool — 

Now make reply — 

Wilt thou too fail thy friend? 



87 



SLAYER AND SLAIN 

He whom I trusted stabbed me. 

Stabbed to the heart. 

Whereat in quick revenge 

I sought again to slay. 

But one who knew, withheld me, 

Saying : " See ! 

'Tis his old wounds that bleed. 

Slayer and slain is he ! " 



88 



THE SINGER 

Tell me, Singer, to whom then 

Dost thou sing? " 

The Singer smiled 

And, with a moment's pause, 

" It is myself," he said, 

" I see in every living thing." 



89 



THE TEST 

He knows indeed of love, who from a blossom- 
ing hedge 

Bestows a flower: 
fiut he who for love's sake applies the knife's 
keen edge 

Fathoms its power. 



90 



THE SECRET 

" A pearl! a pearl! " the critics cry, 
As close they gather round it. 

" A bit of truth, for which we sigh — 
Wherever has he found it ! " 

They look in Nature, look in Art, 
But no whit wiser growing. 

At last they look into his heart — 
What starts their tears to flowing? 



91 



THE DIFFERENCE 

Hast thou seen what the weak in their weakness 
do worship? 

It is power. 
But the strong — give their hearts for a star. 

Or a flower. 



92 



THE SPIRAL 

Out of the deed the word 
That molds again the deed, 

Circle of the infinite, 

O soul of man, take heed ! 



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